


It's Cold

by Inphinity



Category: The Greatest Showman (2017)
Genre: Childhood Memories, Childhood Trauma, Circus, Cute, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family, Family Fluff, Fluff, Funny, How Do I Tag, Hurt/Comfort, I Don't Even Know, Memories, P. T. Barnum Needs a Hug, Snow, Snowball Fight, Snowmen, Worried Phillip Carlyle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-17
Updated: 2018-04-17
Packaged: 2019-04-24 09:31:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14352717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inphinity/pseuds/Inphinity
Summary: When snow falls over the city for the first time in years, everyone is in great spirits.Well....everyone except for P.T. barnum.While the rest of the acts enjoy the magic of a snow day, the usually cheerful and carefree ringleader isn't quite himself and his circus family won't rest until they find out why.Did I debate calling this fic 'The Greatest Snowman' ? ....PERHAPS.Did I write this solely for the purpose of making Barnum emotional? ....MAYBE.





	It's Cold

**Author's Note:**

> Hey dudes, this is my first ever fic on Ao3. Hope you guys like it! Please please PLEASE leave me some comments <3
> 
> I have tons more WIPS in the works, TGS is my current obsession lol (know I'm a little late to the game). 
> 
> Also I know this is historically inaccurate. New York in the 1800's probably didn't go for this long without snow, and I really dont know what happened to the real P.T. Barnum's mother. This is just for the purpose of fluff and fiction.
> 
> Word count: 6425  
> TW: Hypothermia  
> ~

The snow had come suddenly in the night and fallen like a clean blanket over the cityscape, the first flurry in years. Children were filling the streets with joyous cries as they marvelled in this phenomenon they’d never seen, building their first snowmen and discovering the thrills of snowball fights. Ladies of the flats were rushing up and down, boiling water to make warm blackcurrant squash for the children when they returned from their play and hurrying to bring in their laundry before it froze solid. Even the working gentlemen on their way to the factories were chatting ceremoniously amongst themselves on the slow walk to work, marvelling at the perfect white pillows of wonder decorating their once red rooftops. “First time it’s been this thick in at least thirty years”, one gent had declared as the groups trailed in through the factory gates, shoes soaked through with the cold yet hearts filled with the warmth of a seasonal miracle that brought back memories of childhood.

\--

Phin had woken up with a pain in his neck and a chill running through his body, it took him a few minutes of bleary sleepiness to recognise he’d fallen asleep over his desk in his office at the Circus. It wasn’t the first time it had happened, Charity was going to be annoyed with him for not coming home last night. It wasn’t his fault really, he’d done three shows yesterday and still had piles of finance papers to figure out. After the fire, getting the circus back off the ground wasn’t an easy task, even with Phillip’s financial help. They’d gotten the new circus set up about eight months ago and tickets were selling fantastically, only they still owed the bank more money than Barnum could bare to think about.

The man’s thoughts were interrupted by a sharp two knocks on his door, followed by the ever familiar voice he recognised as his younger apprentice.

“Hey P.T. are you around yet?”

The showman stretched the crick out of his neck and smoothed back his messy hair before sitting up and turning towards the door. “Hey! Come in, Phill.” He murmered fondly, trying to hide the freshly woken grogginess in his voice.

The younger man entered, dressed to the nines as always, and sat himself down loosely on the edge of the desk. He gave Phin an incredulous look, one eyebrow raised in silence for a moment before speaking. “Did you sleep here again? You’re still wearing your jacket from last night’s show.” He muttered half accusingly, leaning back slightly against the desk’s headboard.

Phin offered the man a quiet smirk and a roll of his eyes, paying more attention in amusement to how the younger could sit on his desk without his feet touching the floor. She shook his head a little dismissively and stretched slightly, shucking off his heavy, red jacket to the back of his chair carelessly. “It’s cold.” He offered, avoiding the question with a charming tone that said he had no intention of returning to it.  
“Of course it’s cold, have you even looked outside yet? First time in years they’re saying. I’ve never seen anything like it myself. Might have to cancel the shows today, no-one’s going to trek out to the docks in this.” Phillip responded with a smirk of his own, calmly gesturing to the window and snorting through his nose slightly as the confused squint on the older man’s face.

Phineas winced at the bright light coming in through the dusty window and assaulting his exhausted eyes, standing with a stiff grunt and moving over to it to get a closer look. When he saw the brilliant sheet of white coating his once colourful circus ground, his face curled into a frown rather than a smile. 

Phineas T Barnum had only experienced snow this heavy once before in his life and it had not been particularly enjoyable.

The man didn’t even realise he’d been staring in silence for several moments until the younger man’s voice rang in his ears once again.

“P.T.?”

“We can’t cancel the shows today, we’re still getting back on our feet, the circus can’t afford it, you know that.” Phin argued gently, quickly sweeping around as if he hadn’t zoned out at all. He quickly paced over past Phill and grabbed for his jacket once again, slinging it back on to keep out the chill that was already assaulting his bones.

Phillip crossed his arms as he leaned back once again, clearly not buying the subject change but deciding to let it go. “It’s not gonna happen. The animals are too spooked to perform right now, the elephants can’t handle the cold and the performers aren’t going to be-able to rehearse all day in their costumes when the tent is this temperature. On top of that, we’re already still dealing with the legal backlash of the fire with city health and safety, if a customer slips over on our property because of the weather, we’re screwed P.T.” He declared, hopping off the desk and leaning on it with one hand instead. “Take a day off, go spend the day with Charity and the girls. The performers are all too excited to focus today anyway, most of them have never seen anything like this either.”

With that, the younger man turned on his heal and left once more as swiftly as he’d come, leaving the door ajar. After a moment P.T. heard him call out from down the hall “We’ll be fine, we’ll open up again tomorrow when everything has thawed out a little. One day won’t break us, one accident will.”

Phillip was a careful man, Phin found himself rolling his eyes. He’d never been one to be careful himself, he liked to embrace danger. Though he supposed he couldn’t put his people at risk, not after they’d already dealt with the fire earlier this year. He slumped back in his chair half-heartedly and buttoned up his coat, setting out the abandoned paperwork he’d left scattered on his desk last night and shuffling it back into order. 

He couldn’t blame them for being excited, but the showman had hoped his previous experience with heavy snow would be his last.

\--

Phill tipped his hat back onto his head as he stepped outside, bracing from the cold and taking in his surroundings, it really was pretty magical. As a boy he’d witnessed the light sprinkling’s of snow that left his parents mansion looking like a gingerbread house coated in a thin dusting of powdered sugar year after year. Never anything enough to play in, not that his parents would have ever allowed him to frolic outside anyway, even as a young child he’d have his back whacked with the cane to stand up straight and his fingers clipped with the ruler for getting a stain on his clothes. The idea of them letting him roll around in the frosty blanket of cold that faced him now, even if it had been available back then, was entirely laughable.

His train of thought was interrupted suddenly as a compact ball of snow smashed against his face at high speeds, knocking him off his feet. He was thankful the snow was there to cushion his fall at least.

“Carlyle? … Oops sorry!” came a recognisable voice. He glanced around to see the familiar friendly face that was Lettie as she came rushing over. She extended a hand to him and tugged him easily back to his feet.

“You have a good throwing arm on you. Don’t let Barnum see or next thing you know he’ll have you doing the blindfolded knife throw.” Phillip chuckled as he dusted the wet snow off his pants. 

“I thought you were Charles, he climbed in through my window and got me in the face with a snowball this morning, I’ve been trying to get him back ever since but that man is fast for someone with like, a foot of leg.” She explained, picking up the top hat Phillip didn’t even realise he’d dropped and dusting it off a bit before popping it back on his head and pushing it down over his eyes playfully.

“Are you guys ever going to stop with the short jokes? I’m not that short.” He huffed with an eyeroll as he pulled his hat back into place. It earned a laugh from the bearded lady.  
“Not as long as you’re spending time around Barnum, next to him you look like an elf, Carlyle.” She snorted, giving his shoulder a playful tap. “Where is the old man anyway?”

“Over in his office. Doesn’t seem in a good mood about the snow” He offered with a shrug.

Lettie hummed slightly as she knelt to roll another ball of snow in her hands. “Prince of humbug, more like prince of ‘bah humbug’.” 

“I don’t know what his problem is, of all people I thought he’d be pretty excited about the snow.” Phillip hummed thoughtfully. He then looked taken back as the woman handed him her snowball and marched inside. 

“Probably just distracted scheming something stupid and crazy again. I’ll go talk to him. You find Charles and kick his ass for me.”

Phillip snorted through his nose as he tossed the snowball a few times in his hand and turned on his heal to hunt for his victim, smirk growing on his lips. After all, he wasn’t one to argue with Lettie Lutz.

\--

“Hey Barnum!”

The sound was followed by a few loud knocks on the wooden door and Phineas sighed. He’d given up trying to focus on his work until he’d at least woken up a little and found himself instead starting off the day with a glass of whisky to fight the cold as he leaned into the windowsill to stare out at the glistening whiteness, trying to fight the memories attempting to assault his mind. 

The man downed his glass and turned around to lean against the wall facing the door. “C’min Lettie.” 

The woman wandered in and crossed her arms, leaning into the door frame. “You seen the snow? Isn’t it amazing, I’ve never seen anything like it.” She offered, throwing him a gentle grin.

“Yeah I’ve seen it. Circus is gonna have to close for the day.” He hummed, putting down his glass and refilling it from the bottle on his desk. “You can take the day off. Remember to dress warm.”

“What’s your deal, Barnum? Aren’t you excited to go home and see your girls? I’m sure they’re excited to build their first snowman and they could use someone tall to help them out.” She questioned, wandering over and plucking the bottle from his hand. “And it’s a little early for that, don’t you think?”.

He made a grab for the bottle but the woman held it back out of his reach and raised her eyebrows at him accusingly. He sighed, arms retreating to his sides in defeat. “ ‘Course I’m excited to go see my girls. I’ve just got a lot of work to finish up first.”. He grabbed another glass and offered it to her with an eyebrow raise of his own.

Reluctantly, Lettie took it and poured herself a glass. She almost spilt it as the door slammed open and a panting Phillip scrambled in, slamming the door shut behind him. His clothes soaked through and his hair full of frost. It took Barnum off guard too.

“I’m outnumbered. Anne and WD joined forces with Charles and then someone caught Constantine, Chang and Eng while they were trying to figure out how to build a snowman and they thought it was me so now they’re chasing me too.”

Lettie let out a cackle as she put her glass down and hoisted herself up to sit on the desk. “You look like a mess, Carlyle. You got owned.”

“Hey! You’re the one that got me into this!” He retorted half jokingly. “WD got me right in the face and I slipped and fell into a drift. Made a fool of myself in front of Anne thanks to you.”

“You should be more careful, Phill.” P.T. sighed, no hint of even the slightest grin on his face as he poured the other man a glass of whisky too. He knew he never needed to ask with Phillip, it was one of the things he liked about his young apprentice. “Weather like this gets people killed. Make sure you get all the animals inside and tell everyone to keep within the circus property. I don’t need anyone falling in the docks and freezing to death.” He grunted, handing the man his glass.

“Since when are you Mr Careful? That’s my role.” Phillip retorted playfully, snatching his glass and taking a large gulp, grateful to the alcohol for numbing his chill.

Lettie was about to make a snide comment when suddenly the door burst open again, this time baring Anne with an arm full of snow accompanied by Charles, who had a snowball in each hand at the ready. No one managed to get a word out before the man managed to pelt Phillip in the stomach with one ball and P.T. in the face with the other. “YOU CAN’T HIDE FROM THE GENERAL.”

“Charles, not indoors!” Lettie scolded, eyes drifting from the smaller man to Anne instead “And I thought you of all people would know better.”

“I got carried away. I’ve never seen this kind of snowfall before.” The woman smirked in return, handing Charles two more snowballs from her stack. 

“This is war, there’s no safe places in war. Come back outside and fight like a man Carlyle!” Charles declared, holding a ball up threateningly. Only lowering it at the sound of P.T.’s glass being slammed back on the table a little too hard.

“Outside. All of you.” The ringleader demanded with a growl, dragging the wet slush from his face with one hand. 

His tone even made Lettie shut her mouth. Phillip was the one who eventually spoke after a moment. “P.T., they’re just having fun.”

“Yeah what’s your problem, Barnum?” Lettie spoke up after the man, more concern in her voice than irritation.

“My problem is that I have work to do and my office is full of children.” He mumbled snappily, picking up his glass once again and downing the bitter whisky inside without as much as a grimace.

Charles, unphased, narrowed his eyes and threw his arm back to pelt the man with another ball, only stopping when he saw the older man flinch. Lettie seemed just as taken back by the man’s reaction and stepped over to pluck the glass out of Barnum’s hand, placing it at the other end of his desk.

“You don’t like the snow, do ya Barnum?”

The showman stepped over and grabbed the snowball from Charles’ hand, crushing it in his own. “I don’t like being pelted in the face with it, if that’s what you mean.” He declared, a little gentler this time. “Give me back my whisky, Lettie.”

The woman nudged it a little further away with her finger as he moved to take it, giving him a warning look. “You can’t drink to ignore the fact it snowed.”

“I’m drinking because it’s cold.” He retorted, narrowing his eyes a little as he was clearly becoming fed up. “I’m not scared of snow, Lettie. It just isn’t ideal weather.”

“If you’re cold, I’ll make coffee. Some of the others set one of the lion hoops on fire in the main ring to keep the animals warm and O’Malley set down some blankets for them. We should move down there, we’ll catch cold’s in here anyway.” Anne offered carefully, turning on her heal and making her way down the hallway as a statement of declaration in the matter.

After a moment everyone was slowly following.

“What is your deal with snow, P.T. I’d have thought you of all people would love stuff like this.” Phillip asked casually, wandering alongside his taller friend as he tugged his own hat off to hold by his side. 

“Don’t like things that prevent us from doing the show, that’s all.” The man hummed in response, clicking his tongue slightly and pausing for a moment before following up a little more honestly. He was around family, after all. “Last time it snowed like this I was, maybe? Thirteen? Not quite a boy, not quite a man just yet. My late father had passed on a few months back and for a period of time before I found a job with the railroad, I had to do with making a place for myself on the streets of New-York.”

“You were homeless at thirteen?” the younger questioned, clearly a little confused by the sudden story though not refusing it by any means. 

“Suppose that’s where you picked up the knack for conning people, huh? Little street-thief Barnum. I can imagine that.” Lettie cackled, lingering back to join the convocation. 

“I picked up more skills than just that. I prefer to think of it as my years of building character.” The man grinned, raising his eyebrows and crossing his arms almost proudly. “Everyone starts out somewhere.”

\--

The centre ring was much warmer than the office had been, a couple of the zebras and one of the elephants were sat calmly on blankets close to the fire staying warm, while most of the other animals lingered around the stage, clearly curious since it wasn’t often they were allowed to roam free around the space. The troop found a free spot to sit while Anne disappeared off outside to her trailer to make up some hot drinks, Lettie perched herself on a hay bale next to one of the zebras while Charles pushed himself up onto the stone side of the ring. Barnum just settled for the blanketed ground, sitting loosely with one knee up to lean on, Phillip sat down next to him, choosing to cross his legs instead.

“This is just a brief pause in the snow war, as soon as I regain feeling in my hands I’m destroying you all” Charles declared, holding his hands up full disclosure. 

“Continue with your story, P.T.” Lettie insisted, perching her chin on her fist.

The ringleader rolled his eyes a little but leaned forwards as he spoke, as if telling a dramatic tale to children in front of a camp fire. “ So I was thirteen, it was sometime in late January and that week I’d been camping out in the rags bin at the back of one of the local tailors. It was comfortable, sort of reminded me of my days back with my father, our house had always been full of scraps of fabric he’d used to mend clothes with, and it had that same cotton scent to it.” He began, slowly taking off his hat and moving it down to put it on the ground in front of him, leaning his knee against the top as he leaned forward a little further. 

“One morning I woke up trapped in there, it was like the lid had been tacked down. Pitch dark and so cold my fingers had long lost feeling, for a while I thought It was the end for young P.T. Barnum. Fortunately the universe couldn’t get rid of me that easy! Sometime late morning the tailor had come out to dispose of the weeks scraps and pried the lid off, turns out it’d frozen shut. He chased me off down the street but couldn’t catch me, I was quite the athletic scrap of a lad so I managed to get away without a beating. Unfortunately, however, this did leave me without a place to camp out. It took me a while of running before I’d even noticed the heavy blankets of snow lining the streets and my boots beginning to clump with the stuff. I’d never see anything like it, it was beautiful. Like a clean slate to the world. Gave my young heart a glimmer of hope.”

The story was interrupted as Anne paced back in with a tray of mugs, quietly beginning to hand them out. She knew her circus family well by this stage; Tea for Lettie and herself, hot chocolate for Charles and Phillip and black coffee for Barnum. Phillip liked to pretend he preferred the bitter taste of a cup of coffee but she could read his eyes better than his lips.

“So you weren’t always afraid of the snow, then?” She asked softly, perching herself down gracefully on the haybale next to Lettie once she’d finished distributing the mugs.

The showman cupped his own mug in his hand, silently grateful for the warmth it was radiating through his nearly numb hands. His eyes rolled once again at her question. “For the last time, I’m not afraid of snow. It’s just a general dislike for the stuff. Nothing frightens Phineas Taylor Barnum!” He declared, teetering on offended at the accusation.

He took a sip of the hot, bitter liquid in his mug and felt his shoulders relax from the warmth. After a moment he put the mug down next to his hat on the sawdust ground and leaned in to continue his story.

“Of course I didn’t always dislike the stuff, every young boy is excited by the freshly fallen snow. I found myself down in the city centre where all the other children, free from school and obligations were enjoying themselves. Snowmen were being built on every street corner, you only had to step in the street to find yourself suddenly immersed in a snowball fight. It was thrilling and magical, the world was a playground. I think it was the first time since my mother-“ The man paused, trailing off slightly as his mouth closed.

“P.T.?” Phillip asked gently, leaning in slightly in concern over the man’s unreadable expression. 

The moment the showman realised he’d stopped talking he put back on his signature smirk and took a gulp of his scolding hot coffee to pretend nothing had happened, waving the other man off dismissively with one hand. “Anyway. It’d been the first time in years I’d actually felt the joyous wonder of being a boy, getting to play and spend time with other kids my age, getting to be carefree. I had a marvellous time wowing the neighbourhood with my near professional snowman building skills and attracting all the young ladies with my excellent aim with snowballs, not that I needed their attention, I already had the love of my life waiting for me no-matter how far apart we were at the time.”

Anne shared a look with Lettie as she tried to sip her tea and decided to give it another minute. The bearded lady raised her eyebrows back at the woman, trying to supress a snort. The whole circus at this point knew their ringmaster well enough to know when he was bending the truth to put a sparkle on things. It was what he did best, after all.

The showman continued with his story, unaware of their silent exchange. 

“It wasn’t until the sun was starting to lower that the fun of the situation began to fade. All the other boys and girls were scrambling back inside before dusk, returning to their warm fireplaces and to the arms of parents baring warm milk and dinner to fight off the chills. Obviously that wasn’t so much the case for me, instead I quickly found myself alone on the street as it grew dark, clothes soaked through and fingers and toes numbed from the ice. Suddenly the feeling of belonging had been shed and isolation sank back in, carefree drifted away and it was time to return to being a man and baring the responsibilities of life.” 

The man’s face had grown serious and he picked up his coffee once again, cupping it in his rugged hands for the warmth as if the ghosting pain of frozen fingers was still creeping into his bones all these years later.

“That’s pretty scary, people die out on the streets in this kinda weather.” Lettie suggested calmly, eyes showing a quiet offering of compassion as she took a small gulp of her tea. 

“Yeah, how’d you get yourself out of that one Barnum?” Charles asked half accusingly, putting on half a smirk as if he knew some lies were coming but he was fully ready for the entertainment of them.

The ringleader took another sip of the warm bitter liquid in his cup and clicked his tongue, flashing his famous untrustworthy grin.

“Well as I said, the universe couldn’t get rid of P.T. Barnum that easy. It did come pretty close on this occasion though.” He began, leaning back in once more. “I’d walked until nightfall in search of shelter but found no-where warm, snow was beginning to fall again and the flurry was making it hard to see, especially in the blackness of the night. My once numbed body beginning to wrack with pain from the cold with no winter coat to protect me from the elements and my damp clothes starting to hit freezing point. I even resorted to knocking on doors and pleading for shelter, just for the night, but to no-avail. People knew me as a thief, ‘course they didn’t want a thief in their homes.” The man explained dramatically, slowly putting down his cup and moving his gaze around to make eye contact with each person. 

“Eventually I found myself just continuing to walk to try to fight of the cold, ending up at the edge of town and stumbling into the forest. The cold was making me disorientated, the trees looked like they were moving, I wasn’t sure which direction I was going or even what I was doing. I figured maybe I could find shelter in a cave, start a fire. I was a man, a survivor, a little snow wouldn’t stop me.” He declared, a moment of pride on his face before it fell into a serious look. “Or so I believed.”

“What happened next?” came another voice interrupting the man’s dramatic pause. 

P.T. twisted his head slightly to spot W.D. who had perched up in the bleachers to listen, along with several of the other circus acts, all looking just as engaged. He hadn’t even heard them come in and sit down, he seemed to have gained quite an audience. The ringleader cleared his throat slightly, taking a sip of his coffee to cover for his awkward hesitation. “…Folks this is kinda a personal story and the crowd has taken on more seats than are available for this particular showing I’m afraid.”

Lettie let out a cackle, throwing her head back a little before leaning back in and putting down her mug. “C’mon Barnum, when do you ever get stage fright? Get on with the story.”

“What happened to being a Showman? You’re not going to let down your crowd are you?” Phillip added in, raising an eyebrow at the man as he leaned back on his elbows.

Barnum sighed through his nose quietly, irritation only clear on his features for a brief moment before he gave in. He couldn’t argue with that, the show must go on. He’d never been one to disappoint a crowd even if the show was rather uncomfortable. Eyes scanned the room, taking in the other performers, everyone was in coats or had blankets, rather a few people had mugs of some kind of warm liquid. It was obvious everyone had been out in the snow, there was a sense of carefree joy in the air still lingering. As much as their frosty games didn’t call to him in the slightest, the sight made the corners of his lips twitch into a crooked grin. This was his family, he was glad they were enjoying themselves, and if he was going to share a personal tale it might as well be with people he trusted.

“Alright alright, gather round let’s get this over with.” He waved a hand dismissively, leaning back in for what felt like the hundredth time now. “Story of how ya’ fearless ringleader got to be scared of the snow.”

“So there I was, stumbling through the trees in the pitch darkness, snowstorm pelting my face and clothes starting to crystalize against my skin. I no-longer even had the energy to shiver and yet my legs kept taking me forward deeper and deeper into the woods. Suddenly, my foot slips out from under me and before I even know what’s going on I’m crashing down a hill, being bashed by rocks and clumps of ice as I fall.” The showman growled in a low tone. “I don’t know exactly when I woke up, but it was still dark. I knew I was bleeding but I couldn’t feel a thing. When I tried to stand the ground was slippery and I heard only a faint crack before my arm crashed through the ice. I’d landed on a frozen lake. The feeling of the icy water assaulting my arm made pain shoot all through my body. After managing to roll to the side I lay motionless on the ice, afraid to move lest I fall through to my death.”

Suddenly the man’s voice was almost a whisper, he cleared his throat but something about his expression was unsettling, almost distressed. “I’m man enough to admit I was afraid, afraid of dying out there alone in the dark. I screamed for help until my voice was raw and my eyes were heavy. I knew if I fell asleep I’d likely never wake up. My fingers were black with the cold and my heart was so sluggish that a doctor might mistake me for dead. The only thing keeping me awake was the fear.” He explained slowly, dark eyes shifting to stare at his almost empty coffee cup. “I remember it was the first time I’d cried out to my mother, screaming at the sky as if she’d appear and pick me up in her arms like she did when I was a little boy. Taking away the pain and fixing the world so it wouldn’t hurt me anymore. It didn’t happen, of course. The last thing I remembered was feeling too exhausted to open my mouth and deciding that maybe I could see her in my dreams instead.”

There was a hushed silence as the man downed his last gulp of coffee yet continued to hold the mug, appreciating it’s residual warmth. He didn’t force himself to make eye contact again for several moments, when he did he was met with Lettie pulling herself over next to him quietly and putting a reassuring hand on his shoulder. She didn’t speak and he was grateful. He’d shared something more vulnerable than he was used to admitting and he wasn’t sure he could play it off at a humbug tale, it had come out too raw, too honest. It unsettled the man more than he cared to admit.

“Of course the story didn’t end there or I wouldn’t be sitting here with you now!” He suddenly declared, forcing a cheerful tone to try to hide his discomfort. He had to put on a show, being vulnerable in front of his people wasn’t an option. He was their ringleader, the circus king, the man they all relied on. He couldn’t be weak, not in front of them, even if his chest did suddenly feel too tight and his eyes burned gently with tears well overdue to be shed.

Phin remembered it so intensely, it had been the closest he’d come to death. He remembered the feeling of the relentless snow beginning to settle on his face as his bleary eyes tried to make out if the splodges in the sky were snowflakes or stars. He remembered hearing another crack beneath him and being overwhelmed with fear that the ice would give way any second. He remembered feeling like an infant as he cried out helplessly to his mommy, and even briefly to his father in a moment of true desperation. He remembered thinking of Charity’s face and wondering if she’d remember him or even care if the letters stopped. He remembered the moment he’d felt truly alone in the world and for the first time in his young life, he wondered whether the almost certain death standing before him was what he deserved.

He cleared his throat once more, not allowing his voice to crack. The show must go on.

“I was rescued of course. Woke up in the lounge of someone’s small cabin in the woods by the fire. Old lady, can’t remember her name now, it’s been a long time. She’d stripped me of my wet clothes and provided me with blankets, even offered me soup and water. It had been a long time since I’d had homemade soup. She let me rest there for a few days then sent me on my way once I was able to walk again. It took me a few hours to find my way back to the city but I was grateful to see the beautiful smog of city life once again. I was pretty sick for a while after that, feverish from the cold for a good week or so. Didn’t mind so much mind you, at least I didn’t need to eat for a while.” He continued a little more carelessly, waving a hand dismissively as if the story was less than important all of a sudden. Hoping no-one would question the dramatic change in tone too much. “It’s just, seeing that expanse of white emptiness covering everything. I suppose it brought back some feelings I thought I’d long supressed.”

The man could feel the oncoming barrage of questions and remarks before a single person had a chance to open their mouths, fortunately instead the noise that broke the silence was not a question but rather the familiar exclamation of-

“DADDY!”

The man’s unsure expression broke into a grin as he spun on his knee and stood just in time to catch the two girls who all but threw themselves through the tent door as they ran at him. The showman caught Helen in one arm and Caroline in the other, hoisting them with ease onto his shoulders and spinning them once before placing them back on their feet. “Girls! What are you doing here? Where’s your mother?” he asked playfully, pressing a kiss on the top of Helen’s head as he ruffled Caroline’s hair. 

“She’s right here. Coming to check on her husband who once again didn’t come home last night.” Charity suddenly called out, leaning against the pole holding up the tent door, giving her husband an amused accusing look. “Who I’m assuming also didn’t bring a winter coat.”

He scooped the girls back up and jogged over to the woman, immediately pressing his rough lips against her softer ones. The younger girl in his arms made a disgusted noise with her mouth which made her older sister erupt into giggles. The ringmaster broke away from the kiss after a few moments, gazing at his wife with those charming and mischievous eyes that always softened her into forgiving.

“I had a lot of work to do.”

“The girls worry about their dad when he doesn’t come home. Helen wouldn’t sleep because she thought one of the elephants had eaten you.” The woman shook her head gently with a smirk, leaning up to kiss his cheek as she rummaged in the bag she’d brought along. “We brought along a coat for you, and some spare blankets and a pot of soup for everyone else to help them brave the weather.”

“I could go for some homemade soup!” Charles called over, eagerly getting up to come over and help with her bags. Lettie getting up and following a moment later to come and greet the girls.

Charity held a delicate hand up to cup her husbands face, smiling at him lovingly and shaking her head a little, neverendingly amused by his frankly ridiculous dedication to the circus. “The girls have been a bundle of energy all morning wanting to build a snowman, take them out and show them how, I’ll get the soup ready.”

The showman clicked his tongue hesitantly, and gave a small nod in response. His quiet unsureness was drastically out of the ordinary for the eccentric ringleader but before his concerned wife could question it, they were interrupted.

“Actually I need to discuss some important business stuff with P.T. Is it okay if me and him go and heat up the soup instead?” Phillip cut in suddenly, appearing between the two, glancing at Charity and raising his eyebrows a few times questioningly.

The showman felt the younger man put a reassuring hand on his back and give it a quick pat. Then another voice piped up.

“Yeah let the boys make the soup, I happen to be an expert in snowman building.” Lettie declared, putting a hand on each of the girls heads playfully.

“Me and Charles can teach them to snowball fight, we’re a surprisingly good team.” Anne recommended, smile twitching into a smirk as her eyes darted from P.T. to the girls.

“When I play at snowball fighting it’s no longer a game, it’s a war. You girls are about to be taught how to fight by the general himself.” Charles grinned, hands on his hips .

Charity gave them a confused look for a brief second, quickly breathing out a chuckle and handing her husband the bag containing the pot of soup. “Guess they’re in good hands. I’m going to keep an eye on the girls to make sure they’re behaving. Make sure you and Phillip heat it up properly, there should be enough for everyone.”

That familiar crooked grin grew back on the man’s face as he took the bag, kissing his wife’s cheek once more before she disappeared outside, having to jog to keep up with the excited girls already chasing Lettie out of the tent door. He then turned to Phillip and raised an eyebrow. “Important business?”

“You might be a good showman but you’re a terrible actor. Don’t pretend I didn’t just save your butt.” The younger man grinned, offering an innocent shrug and holding his hands up defensively.

“C’mon, let’s go get the soup warmed up while the girls tire themselves out making the greatest snowman.”


End file.
